The Prince of Two Tribes

by Sean Cullen

  Marching together, the warriors of the two races prodded their shackled prisoners up the path until they arrived before the Human King and Merddyn.

  The prisoners were weighed down by iron collars that hung from their necks, bound by lengths of chain to fetters on their hands and feet. As they came to a halt, they fell to their knees under the weight of the iron that was already burning painful welts on their skin. All save one.

  The leader of the vanquished Faeries strained to remain upright despite his pain. He clenched his teeth as he raised his face to look at his captors. The Humans, including their battle-hardened King, took an involuntary step backwards as they saw the naked rage and hatred that twisted the otherwise handsome face. Merddyn didn’t flinch. He met the fierce gaze with a stony glare of his own.

  “Taín Mab Dubh.” Merddyn’s voice cut easily through the howl of the cold wind. “Taín, Son of Darkness: this is the name you chose for yourself. You defied the will of our rightful Council and took up arms against family and friends. You declared yourself above and outside our Law.” Merddyn’s voice commanded the attention of all. “You are finished. You and your followers have lost the battle and the war.”

  Taín laughed. “Wise Old Merddyn. Selfless Merddyn.” The Dark Faerie Lord sneered and spat at Merddyn’s feet. “Merddyn the Fool. With you by my side we could have crushed the People of Metal. Now you would have us living as outcasts on the edges of the world, left to haunt the dark and lonely places. Ghosts! Worse than ghosts, for are we not flesh and blood?”

  “Taín, you are wrong.” Merddyn shook his head sadly. “To fight the Humans is futile. One might as well take up arms against the tides of the seas or the winds or the air. They will outnumber us ere long. An honourable peace is what we must have to ensure that we survive.”

  “Pah! Peace? Slavery! The People of the Moon were born to rule. You have doomed them with your cowardice. You are all cowards!”

  Ariel lunged forward, too quick to be restrained, and struck the prisoner across the face with the back of his mailed hand. The crack of the contact echoed on the hillside. Taín staggered and fell onto his face.

  “Keep your idle taunts to yourself, dog! Merddyn fears no one, least of all you!”

  Taín forced himself up onto his knees. He grinned, bright blood drooling from his split lip. “All slights will be remembered, Brother Ariel! Lapdog Ariel! Your treachery will be remembered and avenged,” the Dark Faerie hissed. He lunged against his chains but succeeded only in pitching himself forward onto his knees.

  A Faerie in exquisite armour inlaid with pearls reached out and restrained Ariel. “We all have reason to be bitter,” the Faerie said, his grey eyes full of pain. “We must learn to forgive.”

  “Never.” Ariel’s voice broke. “He killed my sister. Let me go, Greenleaf.” Ariel was weeping now. “Let me go.”

  “Enough!” cried Merddyn. “The time has come for judgment.” Merddyn raised his hands above his head. Silence reigned on the hilltop. Even the wind seemed to pause. “Taín Mab Dubh, you have broken our Law. Now that Law will judge you. You shall be bound and imprisoned by our strongest Ward. The term of your confinement shall be the term of this world’s existence. Your prison shall be within the Bone of the Earth itself.” Merddyn drew back his arm to indicate the standing stone that occupied the centre of the circle. A ring of Faeries stood around the stone. As Merddyn nodded, they began to chant an eerie melody that made the hackles on the necks of the Humans rise.

  Slowly more Faeries joined in. The chant grew stronger, filling the very air with a shiver of power like the resounding of an invisible bell. The stones in the outer circle shimmered, steaming gently as the water on their surfaces evaporated, boiled off by a mystical inner heat.

  “What is this? What Ward is this?” A tremor in Taín’s voice betrayed his growing fear.

  “A Ward devised especially to contain you and your fellows,” Merddyn replied. He raised his arms with a shout. The voices of the Faeries rose to an ear-shattering shriek.

  The stone at the centre of the circle erupted into white hot flames blazing with tightly leashed energy. The Faeries, too, radiated power, their hair standing out, crackling with blue sparks.

  “No! NO!” Taín struggled against his chains. His enemies watched with horror as their leader was dragged by unseen forces toward the glowing stone. Taín clawed the turf, desperate to stop his progress.

  “You cannot hold me!” the Dark Faerie Lord shrieked. He was almost at the foot of the stone. “You have not defeated me!”

  Taín was drawn into the blazing stone, sinking into the shining surface like a rock into a pool of glowing oil. A clap of thunder rolled out across the battlefield. The light died, leaving the rock standing still, cold and black.

  Merddyn turned to the other prisoners. “You have seen what will happen to those who continue to rebel. If you agree to accept the Pact with the People of Metal and live by its articles, you shall be freed. But … ” Merddyn’s eyes hardened. “Should you break the Pact, you will face the same dire punishment. What say you?”

  The Dark Faeries were silent. The lesser among them turned to those who’d been the lieutenants of Lord Taín. There were three of them: a brother and sister, Orcadia and Briach Mac Morn. They were pale of skin, beautiful to behold even in defeat. They sneered defiance. The third was tall, with dark brown skin. His long chestnut hair hung in curls around his face. His mouth curled in a crooked smile, his honey-brown eyes crinkling with humour.

  “Well, now! Very generous terms, I should think.” He chuckled. “One would be a fool not to accept.”

  “I’m glad you see it that way, Pûkh,” Merddyn replied. “I would not wish to continue this conflict. We have all suffered enough.”

  “I agree.” Pûkh grinned, showing bright, even teeth. “Besides, there is plenty of world for all of us to share.

  I don’t expect I’ll ever be completely at ease around Humans, not the way you are, but I will find a little patch for myself and those who wish to come with me.”

  Merddyn didn’t respond. He turned to the Human King. “Strike off their chains.”

  “And then?” the King growled.

  “Then we have a Pact to strike.”

  “There are still fugitives,” the King said. “Not all surrendered and not all lie dead below.”

  “They shall be hunted down and given the same option,” Merddyn said.

  “And if they refuse?”

  “There are many more stones like those in this circle,” the Ancient Faerie said with great weariness. “Come, there is much to discuss.”

  Greenleaf went to a Faerie who knelt in the mud, her armour spattered with blood and grime. Her golden hair hung in muddy tangles. As he approached she looked up and smiled.

  “Brother,” she said. “I have missed you.”

  “And I you, Deirdre,” Greenleaf replied with a sad smile. He reached out an elegant hand and helped her to her feet. “Let us go home.”

  Later, in the darkness, Merddyn made his way back to the circle of stones. The talks had gone late into the night, but the Pact was in place. After long negotiations, the Humans and Faeries had agreed on three basic rules. First, Faeries could continue to live among Humans as long as they submitted to Human rule. Second, Faeries were forbidden to interfere in Human affairs. Third, any of the Fair Folk who refused to accept the Pact were to be exiled to the Other Side.13 Or, they could choose to live in one of a few Sanctuaries established by the more powerful Fair Folk. These Sanctuaries were forbidden to Humans and would be hidden from the world by powerful glamours. Pûkh was already gathering supporters to join him in a kingdom he planned to call “Tír na nÓg,” or “the Everlasting Lands.”

  Merddyn simply wanted peace. The Pact was difficult to accept, even for him. Essentially, it made Fair Folk dependent on the goodwill of Humans for their continued survival. He imagined a future in which Faeries would fade from Human memory, existing only in legend, as tales to frighten children
around hearth fires.

  Merddyn had one more task before he could rest. He wearily entered the circle of stones, lit up by the moon’s silver light. The stones now contained imprisoned Faeries, those who’d refused to accept the terms of the Pact. With the Faerie glamours, no one would recognize the rocks as the prisons they were.

  Merddyn closed his eyes and let the energy gather in him. He reached out with his mind, raising his arms, palms upward. Beads of sweat instantly popped out on his forehead.

  With a grinding sound, the stones rose from the ground, trailing clods of black earth. The massive rocks hovered for a moment, then began to circle Merddyn. Faster and faster they sped. The roar as they passed through the air was like the scream of a hurricane.

  Suddenly Merddyn dropped his arms. The stones shot off in all directions, catapulting high into the atmosphere. The speed of their passage ignited the air. Like shooting stars in reverse, they flew higher and higher. The central stone lanced upwards like a rocket and disappeared into the dark sky.

  Merddyn fell to his knees, exhausted. His limbs quivered as he gasped for breath.

  “That was a pretty piece of work, Merddyn.”

  He looked up to see Pûkh standing across from him on the now-empty hilltop. Behind him stood two Faeries, a tall man with silver hair and a dour face, and a tiny woman with wide grey eyes and a vague, dreamy smile.

  Merddyn rose shakily to his feet. “The stones are hidden now by glamours and distance. Not even I know where they will fall. They will never be found.”

  “Never is a long time, Merddyn.” Pûkh chuckled. His pale brown eyes twinkled. “A long time.”

  With that, Pûkh turned and melted into the shadows, his two companions close behind.

  9 The location of this battlefi eld is the topic of some debate among Faerie scholars. Some place it in western Europe. Some insist that the battle took place in the steppe country of what is now called Russia. Still others suggest that it took place on the site of a shopping mall in New Jersey. We may never know for sure.

  10 The Far Lands are the Fair Folk’s equivalent of heaven.

  11 The People of Metal is the Faerie term for Humans. They call us this because of our propensity to mine for ore and craft things from it and because of their physical aversion to iron, which causes a bad reaction on contact with Faerie skin, ranging from rashes to toxic shock and death.

  12 This crystal material is somehow spiritually linked to its owner. When the owner dies, the armour melts away, returning to the Earth. This is the main reason Faerie artifacts are rarely found. They’re biodegradable. Always thinking, those Faeries.

  PART 1

  Feet in Both Worlds

  SCHOOL

  “I’m outta here!” Brendan announced, cramming the last of his books into his backpack. “It’s Friday and I’m gonna go straight home. I might sit in my room and listen to music. I might lie on the couch and watch TV. I might just stare at the walls, drooling. I don’t care! It’s Friday and I’m going home.”

  Harold looked annoyed. “We still haven’t gotten any work done on our presentation for social studies. No, let me rephrase that: you haven’t gotten any work done on our presentation for social studies.”

  “We only have until next Friday, Brendan,” Dmitri agreed. “We’d better get on the bowl.”

  “Ball,” Brendan laughed. “Not bowl, Dmitri.”

  They were standing in front of Robertson Davies Academy’s main entrance. Students streamed past them down the stone steps, eager to start the weekend. Only one week remained before the Christmas break, and the mood was high. Exams would follow the two-week layoff, but no one worried about that now. All thoughts were on freedom.

  “Can’t we just put in a couple of hours now?” Harold pleaded. “I’m serious. I don’t like leaving things until the last minute.”

  Brendan swung his bag over his shoulder, shaking his head. “Sorry, guys. I just want some time to myself. I’ve been really busy lately.”

  “Oh? We hadn’t noticed,” Harold said sarcastically.

  “What have you been up to, Brendan?” Dmitri asked in a gentler tone. “You’ve been very reoccupied.”

  “Preoccupied. And it’s just stuff. Family stuff,” Brendan said vaguely. He was telling the truth. Most of his time outside of school was being eaten up by “family” activities. His Faerie relatives were keeping him busy training him to harness his new abilities. He spent every extra minute with Kim, Greenleaf, and other Faerie tutors working on his new perceptive skills. When he wasn’t doing that, he was being thrashed in sparring sessions with Saskia, the Warp Warrior who tended the bar at the Swan of Liir on the Ward’s Island. So far, his schoolwork hadn’t suffered too badly, but his friendship with Harold and Dmitri had. He hardly saw them outside of class. As he looked into their faces, he saw that they were unhappy. He had to make a gesture of some kind.

  “Listen,” he said. “Why don’t we get together on the weekend and do the work then? You guys can come to my house and we’ll get the presentation into shape.”

  “I guess,” Harold said reluctantly.

  “My mum will probably be baking this weekend.”

  Harold’s face visibly brightened. The chubby boy was a fan of Brendan’s mum’s cookies. “Okay. When should we come over?”

  “Tomorrow,” Brendan decided. “Let’s say, two o’clock.”

  “Okay.” Dmitri smiled.

  “See you then,” Brendan said. He waved and set off toward the park and home.

  Dmitri and Harold watched him go.

  “I wonder what kind of family business he’s got that keeps him busy every night of the week,” Harold pondered.

  “Who knows?” Dmitri shrugged. “My family keeps me busy, I guess. My babka hasn’t been feeling well.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that,” Harold said. “Tell her I say hello.”

  “Really?” Dmitri asked, confused. “Okay. But you’ve never met her before.”

  “Haven’t I? I thought I had once.”

  “I don’t think so.”

  “I could have sworn I had.” Harold’s eyebrows scrunched together as he tried to dredge his memory. “I could have sworn.”14

  “Don’t worry about it.” Dmitri clapped him on the back. “Are you taking the streetcar?”

  “Yeah,” Harold said. “Let’s ride.”

  As Brendan waited at the crosswalk for the light to change, he saw Chester Dallaire on the other side of the street. They hadn’t spoken since he’d released Chester from the Compulsion in the hospital room weeks ago. Chester had only just returned to school after a long psychiatric evaluation.

  He was no longer the same hulking bully who’d terrorized their little group every day. He was quieter. He kept pretty much to himself, having discarded the cadre of rough friends he’d once run with. He’d lost weight and cut his hair.

  Brendan felt a pang of guilt. These changes were the result of his actions. He had unwittingly used his powers on Chester, powers he’d been unaware he even possessed. Chester had been bullying Brendan and Kim when Brendan had said simply, “Get lost!” He’d learned the hard way that he had to be careful what he said to Humans. A Faerie can Compel people to do things with words alone, and the stronger the will behind the words, the stronger the Compulsion. Brendan’s command had sent Chester fleeing across the country in a desperate, mindless effort to lose himself. The police finally found him and sent him to the hospital until Brendan released him from the Compulsion. Brendan remembered that moment and the grateful reaction of Chester’s mother with a great deal of shame. He hoped that Chester was okay and had suffered no lasting damage. When they passed each other in the halls, Chester never spoke to him but just nodded in acknowledgment. At times, however, when Brendan was in the cafeteria or standing talking with his friends, he’d catch Chester staring at him. Brendan wondered how much of his ordeal Chester recalled and if he knew of Brendan’s involvement.

  Chester was trudging north to the subway entrance. He
must have sensed Brendan’s eyes on him because he looked up directly at him. He stared for an uncomfortable moment and then nodded his head once. Brendan lamely waved a hand and looked away, walking across the street into the park.

  The high-pitched buzz of a small engine approached. Kim coasted up on her scooter, her silver crash helmet flashing in the weak December sunlight. Her real name was Ki-Mata, but she allowed Brendan to call her by the name she used in Human company, Kim.

  “Is that a new scooter?” Brendan asked.

  “Yep! Og totally freaked when I told him how the other one got trashed. I had to beg and plead and generally grovel, but he agreed to build me a new one.” Og was Brendan’s Faerie uncle. A rough and hearty fellow, he hardly seemed the type to be good with his hands. Og was an Artificer, however, the Faerie equivalent of an engineer.15 He had built a scooter for Kim, which she’d trashed during the headlong escape from the mad and dangerous Orcadia. “He wasn’t happy, but in the end, he couldn’t say no.”

  “I’ll bet.” Brendan laughed. He couldn’t imagine many people, Faerie or Human, who’d stand in Kim’s way if she really wanted something. In spite of her toughness, she was what most of the boys at RDA would call a hottie. But should any of them call her that within earshot, she’d likely brain them with the field hockey stick that perpetually jutted out from her backpack. Brendan supposed that was part of the reason she was so appealing. She was pretty and kind of terrifying at the same time.

  “What’s your problem?” Kim asked suddenly.

  Brendan realized he’d been staring at her. He tried to look nonchalant. “Nothing.”

  “How have your training sessions been going?” Kim asked.

  “Brutal. I can’t seem to get anything right. I’ve lost whatever connection I had to my abilities.”